Two of Szigeti’s greatest concerto recordings were 
          recorded in London between 1932 and 1934, when he was at something like 
          his prime, and are conveniently harnessed in this super-budget Naxos 
          ‘Great Violinist’ release. The Mozart is one of three recordings made 
          with the LPO and Beecham – the others were the Mendelssohn and Prokofiev 
          1 – and the conductor’s contribution to this Mozart performance is characterized 
          by note writer Tully Potter as "brusque … and slapdash." Presumably 
          therefore Szigeti’s marvellous performance worked in spite of, not because 
          of, the conductor – not an argument I would be prepared to follow too 
          far. In fact Beecham’s accompaniment is perfectly acceptable and animates 
          Szigeti’s sometimes miraculous playing to a large degree. The violinist 
          is stylish and aristocratic in equal measure, utilising the Joachim 
          cadenzas, reaching a peak in the slow movement, a benchmark performance 
          by which I judge all other recordings. He vests the lyric phrases with 
          a chaste intensity seldom experienced in Mozartian concerto performances. 
          The contrastive material is charmingly intensified by Szigeti, rather 
          than being allowed to dissipate, Beecham encouraging orchestral pizzicati 
          that are properly energetic and characterful. Throughout the conductor 
          offers warm and generous support. Szigeti’s elastic phraseology comes 
          to the fore in the Rondo finale, panache and elegance co-existing in 
          perfect accord. Of the musicians of Szigeti’s generation probably only 
          Thibaud was as elegant and convincing a Mozartian and when the Frenchman 
          was finally taped in the D major, off-air in 1951 with Enescu conducting, 
          his technique had long since withered leaving behind just the wonderful 
          instinct for phrasing. 
        
 
        
Szigeti recorded the Beethoven Concerto three times, 
          twice with Bruno Walter conducting. The 1932 Walter recording was followed 
          by a New York Philharmonic one in 1946, the trio being completed by 
          the Dorati accompanied LSO recording of 1961, by which time the violinist 
          had been in long and steady decline (horror stories of the violinist’s 
          frailties have emanated from the LSO Dorati/Menges sessions of 1959/61). 
          The 1932 performance is a thoroughly impressive one though not without 
          its idiosyncrasies. One of the most obvious is Walter’s highly subjective 
          handling of the orchestral introduction, his frequent intemperate accelerandos 
          invariably accompanied by an increase in orchestral volume, none of 
          which ideally prepares for the violinist’s broken octaves entry. There 
          is also some booming bass in the acoustic of Central Hall, Westminster, 
          which can occasionally serve to cloud and occlude the lower string line. 
          But it is to Szigeti that we must turn to appreciate the true stature 
          of the reading – his portamenti are expressive, his line fuses animation 
          with relaxation, whilst conveying all the while a sense of involving 
          depth. In the Larghetto, moments of pregnant expressive meaning are 
          infused with subtly increased vibrato usage and colour, his portamenti 
          beautifully apt and clear, those "backward" portamenti for 
          which he was (in)famous always constructively employed. His correlation 
          of individual episodes here is of the highest architectural acuity and 
          his playing of singular beauty, even if tonally he lacks precisely that 
          quality; at moments such as this it’s of little account. His Rondo finale 
          is full of fresh air, with some deliciously quick and easeful slides 
          accompanying him, and a sense of conclusive surety and delight in the 
          playing. 
        
 
        
The transfers have been well handled by Mark Obert-Thorn. 
          As for the performances – well these are indispensable cornerstones 
          of a collection, and not just a historical collection. 
        
 
        
Jonathan Woolf